Nathan glanced up as the light above the dashboard changed from red to green.
“Please state destination,” the AI said.
Nathan’s eyes widened, and he glanced around the interior as the locks clicked open. For a moment, he was speechless. He looked over his shoulder one more time at the massive arm of water that had risen over the bridge. Without thinking, he opened the door and stepped outside. He looked directly over the edge of the bridge, to the large base from where the water had risen. The liquid swirled within it, and small waves rose, crested, and then disappeared along its surface. They swirled upward, as though caught in some kind of vortex. Glancing over his left shoulder, Nathan saw that the water was now encircling the bridge. Turning back, he glanced up at the section nearest to him and saw that rivulets of liquid had begun falling from the curved surface.
It’s losing cohesion, he thought.
As soon as this thought entered Nathan’s mind, the water froze. For a split second, it was as though Nathan was staring at a still image. However, his mind knew better, and acting on instinct, he retreated into the car and slammed the door.
Behind him, the giant arm-like protrusion of liquid that hovered over the bridge collapsed, and millions of gallons of water dropped onto the surface behind him.
“Lock the doors!” he yelled.
“Yes. A deluge of water has been detected in the immediate vicinity. Please brace for impact.”
Nathan sat up straight. The harness, from which he had previously managed to free himself, now snapped back around his torso, with extra bands reaching across his chest. Struggling, Nathan managed to glance into the rearview mirror to see the water crash down about seventy feet behind him. The bridge rocked violently, and he heard the distant sounds of the cables heaving in response to the new weight. Nathan grasped the door handle and continued staring in the mirror as the deluge rose over the cars and rushed toward his vehicle. He could do nothing but sit and stare as a seven-foot wall of water gushed toward him, knocking the cars in its path onto either side of the roadway. It felt as though energy was being sapped from within him, and Nathan had the momentary urge to faint. Blinking hard and forcing himself to take deep breaths, he opened his eyes and continued watching in the mirror.
The wave came quickly and slammed into his vehicle. The car was lifted and moved along rapidly with the flowing water. Everything became a blur as the taxi slammed into other vehicles. With each impact, Nathan’s head jerked from left to right. He struggled for air as he was pulled against the harness in multiple, rapidly changing directions.
“What’s happening, Nathan?”
“Uh, there’s water on the bridge.”
“Oh. How much?”
“Uh, it’s hard to say,” Nathan managed to say, squealing. “Maybe several million gallons.”
Frank glared at him in disbelief. “You’re moving all over the place. What kind of commands did you give the car?”
“I haven’t given it any yet,” Nathan said, struggling to speak as adrenaline gushed into his bloodstream; his heartbeat throbbed in his neck. Nathan looked to the side and felt a glimmer of hope as the water dispersed over the edges of the bridge, flowing back down into the bay. As the water receded, the car slowed down. The vehicle turned with the motion of the liquid, so that it was facing back toward the city. A moment later, Nathan felt one of the wheels touch the surface. He was thrown upward. Ahead of him, the road had cleared, forming a pathway. Most of the cars had been tossed to either side of the bridge. Some of them had been pushed onto their sides, and others were lying on top of each other.
Nathan felt another jolt as the water dispersed further and the taxi’s four wheels slammed back onto the surface. The two extra harnesses that had spread across his chest retracted, and immediately he took a deep, long breath. Nathan opened and closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the shock to work its way through his body. Still breathing deeply, he addressed the car’s AI system. “Take me back into the city.”
“Of course.”
To his surprise, Nathan heard the vehicle’s near-silent engine revving. Then it moved forward, tracing its way around the other vehicles. “Ten fifty Bush Street, please.”
“Understood,” the car responded.
As Nathan’s cab approached the other side of the bridge, he saw more cars scattered around the area; this was where the water had impacted, and the damage was more severe. As he reached the end of the bridge, Nathan saw a bottleneck of vehicles through which the AI system had difficulty maneuvering. As he approached the toll area, the car began slowing down.
“At this time, the toll booth is unattended and will remain closed until further notice.”
“Frank, these cabs have manual controls, right? It’s a contingency system?”
“Yes, go ahead Nate. I already hacked that system. You have access.”
Nathan breathed a sigh of relief. “Engage manual control.” In the front of the dashboard, a panel opened, revealing a steering wheel.
“Warning. Engaging manual controls requires a license. Do you possess this document?”
“Uh, yes,” Nathan said, lying as convincingly as he could; he did not have a license. He grabbed the steering wheel with one hand and pushed the accelerator to the floor. “Whoa!” he said as the car dashed forward. After a few moments, the AI system interjected again.
“Warning. You are approaching illegal speed limits for the area. Please slow down immediately.”
“No,” Nathan said, frowning. “And shut the hell up!”
“Ignore it, Nate. I’ve overridden the autonomous systems, so it won’t be able to shut down the car.”
“Thanks, Frank.”
“You do realize you’re driving on the wrong side of the road though, right?”
Nathan raised his eyebrows. “Uh, yes, but they closed the other lanes for southbound traffic; everything was moving north.”
Now the toll booth was approaching, and the car was still accelerating. Without hesitating, Nathan slammed the vehicle into the metal and wood panel, smashing it to pieces. Then, he continued into the city. In the rearview mirror, he was terrified to see that multiple tendrils of water were rising out of the ocean and approaching the bridge, no doubt to engulf it. To destroy it, he thought. From this angle, he couldn’t determine how many there were, for the sight of one obscured the others behind it. He guessed there were at least twelve.
That will destroy the bridge, he thought, and his heart sank as he realized this. However, he couldn’t stop that; as he raced back toward the city, all he could think of was his daughter.
***
As the bridge came into view, Max saw the enormous columns of water that were rising out of the bay and reaching toward it. In his hesitation, he had already allowed one of them to crash onto it. Cars were scattered all over the concrete surface; it was a scene of chaos, with people exiting their vehicles and rushing toward either side, trying to escape. Many people couldn’t open their doors and were still trapped inside their cars, slamming against the windows to break them.
Max flew faster. Seconds later, he was passing the left side of the bridge, where he rushed by the enormous tendrils of liquid. He stopped at the center of the bridge and hovered there, watching for a moment as one of the snakelike spirals moved forward and reached over the top of the structure. Max stared at it, reached out with his thoughts, and pulled it back. The entire column, which was fifty feet wide at the base, was ripped backward, pulled by the might of his mind. The sheer force of Max’s influence almost disabled the mass of water, and a shockwave rippled downward toward the surface. Then, like an angered animal, and still under the influence of Zatera’s will, it steadied itself and slowly traced its way back toward the bridge.
A quick glance at the surface and the sight of people still trapped in their vehicles provoked a mild feeling of panic within Max. It was an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time. He quelled the feeling immediately and focused
.
He knew what he had to do—break Zatera’s influence over the water. Focus on the task at hand, he repeated to himself as he stretched out his arms. The sounds of screaming from below became a distant echo as he concentrated. Light poured from his eyes and palms as Max felt for the connection Zatera had established with the water on the psychic plane. With his psychic sight, Max saw it. The psychokinetic grip was like a signal, a strong and sturdy beam, and he had to interrupt it. Summoning all the power he could, Max sent a wave of energy in the near vicinity onto the psychic plane.
Physically, this appeared as a stark explosion of light that came from his body, spreading in a bright, translucent sphere. As it grew and passed through each of the snaking tendrils, Zatera’s hold on them broke, and his control over the water was lost. Max opened his eyes and watched as the huge columns of water fell back into the ocean, creating turbulent waves.
Max was relieved, but as his breathing slowly returned to normal and the light rushed back into his eyes, he immediately knew something was wrong—not with the world, but with him. He was exploring what this was when he heard a sonic boom over the city to his right. He looked in that direction and saw a flash as Daniel’s body raced toward the east, now completely under the control of Zatera’s growing presence. Within two seconds, Daniel was out of sight, though Max followed him in his mind’s eye.
Before long, even this was a struggle. Max could keep watch over Daniel for only a few more moments before his stomach lurched. He felt himself falter in the air for a moment as his vision blurred. Quickly glancing to the left of the bridge, he ignored the people watching him; everyone who remained on the bridge had now turned in his direction and were staring at him. Many of them were taking pictures.
Struggling to maintain his balance, Max rushed toward the north end of the bridge and veered left, where he saw a patch of sparse trees. He crashed into a stretch of grass, fracturing his upper arm on impact. Stumbling, and still sliding forward, he focused on stopping his momentum and keeping his balance. Finally, he skidded to a halt.
Gasping for breath and feeling the new pain in his right arm, Max slowly stood. He took a few steps forward, then lifted his left arm and placed his hand on a tree, glad to be gripping something that had life flowing through it. Then, unable to even stand, he fell to his knees. His vision blurred completely, and he collapsed. Lying on his back, he stared at the sky.
He knew what had happened. He was channeling too much power through the mortal body. As this realization dawned on him, a hundred questions rose into his mind. He had known this moment would come, but hadn’t expected it so soon, and he hadn’t expected things to go this way. With rest, he could be restored, but reaching into his body, feeling down to the level of his cells, he sensed they had already aged. In physical terms, the strain of channeling that level of power through this mortal frame had cost him ten years of equivalent physical life, and this he would not be able to restore. All he had time to do was recuperate, then rejoin Jane in New York City.
What will you do then? he asked himself. Still having enough energy to reach out telepathically, he closed his eyes and searched the North American continent with his thoughts. Lakes, forests, deserts, and cities rushed by below him. Then came the labyrinthine streets of Manhattan, just before his vision rushed upon the tower. Regret stirred inside him, and his brow creased with concern as he saw that it was already hundreds of feet high. Soon, Daniel would join Trey, and then Zatera’s power would increase by an untold order of magnitude. At that point, Max knew, stopping its formation would be virtually impossible.
He took a moment to run the calculations—the various outcomes this new scenario presented—and realized that this was true. Virtually nothing was left in the physical world—or, indeed, even the one he had left behind to reclaim his mortal form—that could halt its progress toward the sky.
Unless…
Max’s eyes narrowed to slits as a tiny glimmer of hope—something that could contain untold power and possibility—came to mind. It was the last thought he had in that moment, as his energy was completely gone. He closed his eyes and drifted through the worlds below and beyond.
CHAPTER 12
SHE
Jane stopped walking and winced, as though her heart had skipped a beat. She placed a hand to her chest, took a breath, and looked up at the buildings. The daylight was just starting to diminish now, and the streets were almost empty. They had been guided by Ciara, who had been directing them through the city in what seemed to Jane like a labyrinthine fashion. However, she trusted Ciara’s psychic vision; it was unparalleled in their group, and Ciara assured them that someone was indeed following them. The problem was that he appeared to be a powerful psychic, too; Ciara could not read any details about the individual other than that the person was young—younger than them. Even with the help of Jane expanding her sight, Ciara could detect very little, and was able to gather only enough information to know that they had to avoid him.
Still, through Ciara’s warnings, they learned he was drawing ever closer, tracing their route step by step. Whenever they changed direction, so did he. They had moved upward through the center of the city, and were now headed east, in the direction of Grand Central Station. None of them knew the city well, except through scanning it with their psychic vision. While living on the Upper East Side, they had been reluctant to venture outside, as they knew the Committee was still searching for them. Now, though, something told Jane that if some kind of encounter were to happen between them and the young individual pursuing them, their greatest chance to defeat him in a fight would be in a large, enclosed space.
“Where is he now, Ciara?” Morris asked.
“Not far. A few hundred feet at most,” she said, her voice tinged with dismay.
Jane glanced at Ciara. The tone of her voice revealed what she was not telling them directly. Whoever this person turned out to be, he was a serious threat.
Jane felt something shudder beneath her. She gasped, stopped moving, and looked at the ground. Quickly realizing that the ground itself had not shaken, she understood that something had shocked her from within. She was afraid to reach out with her thoughts, but she did anyway, unable to stop herself, tracing the source of the feeling that had just caused new fear to surge through her body.
In her mind’s eye, she found Max. Glancing up at the tall, almost gothic buildings above her, she saw them disappear and reappear. In their place, as they intermittently left her sight, she saw beautiful branches swaying, their leaves rustling in a gentle breeze. She could smell him now, and she could feel his chest rise and fall. She understood then that the reason the buildings above her were not consistently there was because Max was not fully conscious. She felt the exhaustion in his muscles and bones, the weariness weighing him down. Worst of all, she felt a horrific, sharp pain in her right shoulder, which she knew mirrored his own; he had been injured. In this shared experience, the tiredness and agony she felt within him almost caused her knees to buckle.
Slowly, trying not to let the others notice, Jane winced as she reached up with her left hand, placed it over her upper right arm and cradled a wound that wasn’t there. Max, she said gently, trying to prod him awake.
The buildings reappeared above her.
Max, wake up! Where are you? We need you!
The trees reappeared once again, and in that moment, Jane felt the presence of another person. Then, just as she sensed the power of this individual, like Max, but even stronger, the psychic link was broken. She exhaled and leaned over just as the buildings appeared above her once again. The pain in her arm disappeared, and she pressed her hands to her face as she took a deep breath.
After a few moments, her friends realized she had stopped moving and turned around. “What’s wrong?” Ciara asked.
Jane hesitated. She was still taking deep breaths as she answered her friend. “It was Max. Something happened to him.”
“What?” Morris said, walk
ing back toward her.
“I don’t know. I can’t reach him. I can—I could feel him for a moment, but now I can’t.
“Where is he?” Ciara asked, her brow furrowing and her voice dripping with concern.
Jane looked at her. “I think he’s sort of unconscious.”
“Is he OK?” Morris asked, his eyes growing wide with fear, revealing the secret, unconscious terror they all shared: that without Max, they had no chance of stopping whatever it was that Zatera was planning.
“I don’t know.” Jane squinted. “I think someone else may have been there with him.”
“Who?” Mike asked.
Slowly, Jane stood straight up, regained her composure, and glanced around. “I’m not sure. It was a woman, I think. That’s when the psychic link was broken.”
“Did she break it?” Ciara asked.
Jane’s brow creased as she considered the question. “I think she might have, yes.”
Jane watched as her friends exchanged concerned glances. After a few seconds, Morris took the remaining few steps toward her and took her hand. He reached for her chin and lifted it so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “It’s OK. We’ll find him, but we have to get out of here, right now.”
“How?” Mike interjected. “Every move we make, this guy tracks us, and I get the impression he’s not trying to sell us something, right, Ciara?”
Ciara shook her head and took a breath. Jane saw her solemn, worried eyes. Surprisingly, in them Jane found new courage. She was determined to not let any harm come to her friends. Stepping out from behind Morris and taking him by the hand, she led them forward. “Come on,” she said. “We can stay ahead of him.”
They continued onward, rushing away from the presence that was closing in on them with rapidity. They hadn’t been paying much attention to their exact location, but Jane knew enough about their surroundings now. They were approaching the approximate location of Grand Central. They had been heading east on 41st Street, and then took a left onto Madison Avenue, which they had found almost completely devoid of traffic. As they approached the intersection, Jane looked up and saw that the sign read East 42nd Street. She was about to enter the main junction ahead of them and would have walked straight onto it if she hadn’t realized then that Ciara had fallen behind. Jane turned to see her walking slowly; Ciara had drifted to the sidewalk, and her hand was brushing the windows of the building next to her, her gaze focused on the ground, clearly in deep concentration.
The Crystal Tower (The Ethereal Vision Book 3) Page 23
